Lucas stumbled as the lone guards pulled the prisoners’ chains forward, dragging them like dogs. Once secured, Severin left them. He could have killed them, but again, he chose to keep them alive. “I want you to suffer for years before you are killed,” he said before storming away.
They had been led on a wild goose chase, a hunt that took them right back into the belly of the beast. For a moment, he thought it might be a cruel joke, but when he witnessed Severin shoot Virgil between the eyes, it was clear they were near the end of their journey. It was completely in the realm of possibility that they would, at last, die in the clutches of power.
Indeed, he shouldn’t have been so shocked. Severin warned them the last time they roamed these subterranean halls, if they didn’t play by his rules, they were going to end up right back in the worst ward of the New Republic.
They were searched, prodded, and slapped before separated and shackled. Wisely, Lucas kept his belongings in a secret compartment within the sole of his boots. Still, his wrists and ankles were bound tight enough together for them to be a struggle to get to. Lucas held his breath as a guard reached down to pat down his thighs. He tried resisting, but every twist he gave to his body only helped tighten the cuffs around his wrists.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he said with what he thought of as an award-winning smile. “Come on, guys. Let’s strike a deal.”
The guards were trained to be silent, but the electric cattle prods spoke enough volume for the bunch of them. Without Severin around, they were allowed to be as violent as they wanted. Abruptly, they jabbed at his sides, laughing as the current sank deep within his flesh, paralyzing the muscle tissue and nerves. As much as he braced for the impact, it quickly disarmed him for minutes, and he quietly shook against the ground. As soon as he finished, they chained him to a nearby hog trough before walking away to prod the other disruptive prisoners.
“Okay, Jeeze. I got it,” Lucas muttered, saliva hanging from his quivering lips.
Chest pumping, he turned to search for his counterparts, but he was left breathless when he noticed they were nowhere to be found. Separated and alone, he held his tongue and carefully scanned the area for any exits.
Out of all the prisons they had seen and experienced, this was one of the worst. The guards paced around the exits, rifles firmly rooted within their palms. Others circled the inmates, making sure that they sat obediently, backs bent enough so that they were staring at the dense mud below.
Lucas wondered when the contractors might finish cementing the area, but as time passed, he was forced to listen to the harsh cries of the other prisoners—nobody was fixing this place. If anything, this prison was created to fall apart. Perhaps it was made for this one moment alone. If that were the case, this would surely become their death day.
But Lucas wouldn’t give up without a fight. He was particularly good at remaining quiet and selective with his decisions. Analytical to the core, he studied the boundaries of the prison for hours until he held the blueprint inside his mind’s eye.
He then focused his eyes on the locks of his cuffs. When Rae freed them near the stables, she’d given them a set of keys. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. Now, it was an obvious way out. Was it possible that the master key might work? He had to try.
He knew he had to be careful. Although they were hundreds of feet underground, he could practically feel the security cameras fixed on him. Not to mention, there were enough prisoners near him to cause a ruckus he didn’t want.
Lucas eyed the man shackled next to him. He was an old militant, weakened by starvation and abuse. Eyes closed, the man silently moved his lips in prayer. Lucas couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard him whisper, “The meek will inherit the earth.”
Lucas hoped he was right. He was sure the meek could bring a swift and brutal punishment to their overlords.
Cautiously, he leaned forward to unhinge the heel of his boot. The ring of keys fell onto the dirt, alongside some loose coins and an old medallion from when he was a child. The keys jingled loudly, but he expected it.
A group of guards nearby stopped. They lowered their gaze, sniffing and pausing as they passed Lucas’s stationary position. As the seconds passed, he snuck a peek to the side of him, praying that the old man wouldn’t give him away. When his eyes opened, Lucas knew he was fucked.
“You…” the militant prisoner said.
Lucas spoke without moving his lips. He focused on the guards’ boots, as well as the cameras above. “Don’t do it, old man. I can get you out of this place. Just shut your fuckin’ mouth, and we will both be free.”
But the man’s pupils expanded before a giant smile twisted onto his face. A wave of energy shook him onto his feet. The man’s mouth fell open, issuing emotional cries to pull the attention of the sentinels. “Guards! Guards! I have something for you!”
“You dumb bastard,” Lucas growled and bent toward the floor. He took the keys in his hand, quickly unlocking himself. Rolling back, he prepared for the bullets that sank into the soil near his body.
As if the guards were ready for their sudden escape, red lights flashed above their heads and the trumpets of alarm echoed madly throughout the hellish prison. Lucas tensed as the guards circled him, and he might have thought he was caught. Luckily, he might have been the cockiest son of a bitch they had yet to face. Even luckier was the fact that the key actually fucking worked.
“Vash!” he called out. “Gonna need you over here, buddy.”
As soon as he saw Vash’s head dart up, he threw the keys. Exhaling sharply, he felt his energy build. “Here, we go again,” he muttered.
He ran toward the guards like a bowling ball to a set of pins. Just as the Ouroboros taught him, he went for the ankles, tersely twisting and knocking them down like a lawnmower. He spun back, taking one guard by the throat and crushing the Adam’s apple. “This one is for Killian!” He frothed at the mouth. With his other hand, he caught a guard’s eye sockets and tore in until he felt the spongy material collapse.
Lucas knelt, chest and back rising as he caught his breath. He slowly revealed the two automatic pistols from underneath him. Before he unleashed the weapons’ fury, he grinned. “This one is for my wife and children, you cunts.”
There was a time for violence, and that time was now. With gleaming satisfaction, he hugged his fingers tightly around the triggers. As far as Lucas was concerned, the guns were painting a magical picture of death and destruction. Death to the empire, death to the rulers who never gave them a chance at having true love. Death to anyone who stood in their way.
It was their crudest attempt at escaping. Vash joined alongside the onslaught, tossing the key ring to another prisoner. Hordes of guards ran to subdue the getaway, but the tables had already turned. The riotous group of prisoners, alpha men who had been chained to their posts for years on end, outnumbered the guards.
Both Vash and Lucas raised their fists into the air, showing their Ouroboros hand tattoos. The old insignia held weight nowhere in the world except this ruinous penitentiary. Catching sight of their beloved insignia, the prisoners roared with might. Now, it was clear how many of them there were. The guards didn’t stay to find out who might fight better.
Lucas waved everyone forward. “Let’s get the hell out of here!”